Their First Thanksgiving
by LoveofVelma
Summary: On a cold and stormy Thanksgiving afternoon, Shaggy tells the story of MacBaggy Rogers on the 'Mayflower'. But that isn't the only story going on that afternoon. F/D , and my favorite, S/V parings. Rated for adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

Their First Thanksgiving

Disclaimer: Scooby Doo and all related characters are owned by Hanna-Barbera, Warner Bros.,and Cartoon Network. All other characters, names, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, places, and incidents is coincidental.

A/N: This is a fictional story based on the voyage of the 'Mayflower'. I have attempted to stay as close to real characters and events as possible. I did make a few minor changes. Elizabeth Tilley was only thirteen when she started the voyage; she married John Howland, also a Mayflower passenger, just short of her sixteenth birthday. I've changed her age to seventeen and romantically linked to Mr. Rogers.

The 'Speedwell' made two attempts with the 'Mayflower', turning back both times because of leaks. For the sake of the story, I only record one.

My thanks to my wife who came up with the amulet plot, Ally82 for her idea on desserts, and Jazzola for her work as Beta.

Chapter One: Appetizers

Part One: The Storm

Norville Rogers, "Shaggy" to his close friends, closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa. His ankle, tightly wrapped to the point only his toes showed above the bandage, lay nestled on a mountain of fluffy pillows. An oversized ottoman had been positioned to hold pillows and foot in the most comfortable position possible.

"Serves you right, Shaggy," Velma came into the room carrying a serving tray loaded to overflowing with Shaggy's favorite foods which is to say anything edible. Shaggy opened his eyes, watching the object of his unrequited love as she positioned the tray before sitting beside him, "you should know better than going one on one with Fred in basketball."

That was true enough but he hadn't been able to say no when challenged by Fred for a pick up game while the girls finished their yearly Thanksgiving dinner. "It wasn't Fred's fault; the doctor says it's only badly sprained. I just need to keep off it for a few days," he explained for like the hundredth time.

"I think it's just a way to get out of cleaning up later," Daphne smiled, sitting a soda within reach before joining Fred on the nearby loveseat. Four sets of eyes went to the window as the sound of the wind searched for any crack in the homes armor. Finding none, the wind howled its rage; continuing to beat against the window.

The storm had come up suddenly after the rushed trip to the Coolsville General Hospital and the Emergency Room. The four had had to lean into the fierce wind to make their way from hospital to the Mystery Machine. Noise of the wind made talking impossible; and the smell! The horrible smell of long dead fish assaulted their noses. The wind swept over the parking lot, blowing loose trash and small pebbles against their progress; stinging their exposed flesh and forcing them to close their eyes to mere slits.

"You promised to tell us a Thanksgiving story; about MacBaggy Rogers on the Mayflower," Daphne's voice pulled their attention back from the storm outside to the comfort of friends gathered around good food, reminding Shaggy that he had indeed promised such a story.

"You can start while we're waiting for the turkey," Velma added. She leaned over to plump up the pillows behind his head, "comfy?" she asked. He liked the nearness of her, breathing deeply of the light clean scent of her delicate perfume, his favorite; but did she know how being so close to him made his heart beat race in his chest. He had wanted to tell her of his feelings for her for years; never quite finding the right time or the right words.

Her fingertips traced a line softly down his arm, leaving goose bumps at their passing, intertwining their fingers, her eyes urging him to begin. Perhaps his unrequited love wasn't as unrequited as he had first thought. Or at least he hoped that was the case. The hand holding movement had not gone unnoticed by Daphne, who smiled knowingly at the couple opposite her.

The following is the story Shaggy told his friends on that Thanksgiving afternoon.

Part Two: The Medallion

"I only have our oral family history, handed down over the generations," Shaggy began. He felt his hand being gently caressed.

Our story begins in a mystery shrouded in time generations before the 'Mayflower' made its maiden voyage. No one remembers which ancestor ordered the medallion made or who created it or what happened to prompt such an artifact to be created at all.

The medallion was of the purest silver, circular in shape with a large emerald in the center. Runes were engraved in the body and fine filigree encircled the piece. The meaning of the runes was lost in the fog of time also.

What is known, and has been passed down over generations is the fact that after the medallion was created, the MacRogers clan enjoyed a prosperity unheard of at that time. But with prosperity came jealously from neighboring clans. That jealousy grew into resentment, especially with the McCullough clan.

It was never proved but suspicion fell on Kameron McCullough when the medallion was stolen. If Kameron was behind the theft, he would hire someone to do the actual theft; then act indignant at any accusations made by the MacRogers clan. One of the advantages of the clan's prosperity was the loyalty of certain persons who were happy to act as spies. For a price.

The medallion had been stolen in the dark of night; before the sun had turned the sky rosy pink the MacRogers chieftain had been awakened with news that the stolen medallion was on its way to London. An hour after sunrise that report had been added to and the chieftain had called his son, Duncan, and given him the mission of retrieving the medallion.

Another hour saw Duncan on his way to Plymouth, England by way of London. He was accompanied by Wee Willie.

*Interlude*

Velma extracted her hand in order to remove Shaggy's empty plate. "Time for a refill I see, and I need to check on the turkey."

"And I need to powder my nose," Daphne added while looking inquiringly at Velma.

"Ever notice it takes two girls to powder one girl's nose?" Fred remarked when the girls had disappeared down the hallway.

Velma looked at her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't that she didn't like what she saw in the mirror...it was just... "I should have been named Jane, then I'd really be Plain Jane," she quipped at her friend standing beside her.

"The make up and lipstick are the perfect shade for you," Daphne replied while adding a small amount of powder to her cheeks, checked the effect and nodded at perfection.

"Then why doesn't Shaggy notice?" Velma pouted.

"So that's it! I wondered why the makeup. You're in love aren't you? With Shaggy?"

"No! Not at all...well, he doesn't notice anything. I don't know why I even try!"

"Try taping turkey to your cheeks and pumpkin pie to your lips...he'll notice. Guaranteed!" Daphne pretended to apply the food items. The girls were still giggling when they returned and resumed their seats.

"The turkey is doing just fine. Shaggy, who was Wee Willie?" Velma asked, "I don't remember you mentioning him before."

"Wee Willie was one of Duncan's best friends." With a refilled plate and ice cold soda, so cold it had ice chips in it, Shaggy continued his story, "I'll explain Wee Willie later in the story. The MacRogers clan weren't the only one's in the area with spies or an interest in the amulet.

"With the destruction of the amulet, the 'Sisters of the Dark Cloth' would be near impossible to stop."

Shaggy's story continues...

*End Interlude*

Part Three: Moonrise

The woman stood in the small valley watching the 'blood moon' appear over the mountain. The moon glow seemed to set the mountain on fire. Macalla Kincaid wasn't her real name, it was the name her parents gave her at birth but her real name was known by only a few of her sisters in the 'Sisters of the Dark Cloth'.

Dressed in the black robes of the sisterhood, she murmured the last of her prayers before lifting the cowl hood to cover her raven locks and leave her face in deep shadow. "Well...any news?" She addressed the woman who had been standing behind her in silence.

"The medallion has been stolen, my Highness," the woman announced, her head bowed in reverence.

"At last! That worm Kameron McCullough has finally gotten the courage to do as we suggested."

"Our contacts report he hired someone else," the woman informed her superior.

"Has the medallion been destroyed, or has Kameron McCullough failed in that? Do the Sisters await my return?"

"They do, my Highness. Mayhaps further word has arrived since I left to accompany you to the Gathering."

"Let us pray for good news upon our return. Come." Macalla walked past the woman knowing she would follow at a respectful distance.

"Our Highness approaches," was heard and the gossiping women standing in a loose circle fell silent and took their places around the fire burning in the center of their midst. The Highness took her place, it wasn't necessary to speak her need for information.

"We await the arrival of Sister Ilyssa to arrive with the latest word."

"We need to preform the Gathering ritual," the Highness proclaimed, "take your places." Several women moved silently to their prearranged places.

The ritual was interrupted with the arrival of Ilyssa, "The amulet is on its way to Plymouth," she announced. Macalla knew what decision had to be made. There was only one option.

"We will finish the ritual," she said, "then I will follow the amulet. I swear to you my sisters, I will not rest nor return until the amulet is no more. Ilyssa will serve in my stead until I return."

Within the hour Macalla was on her way to Plymouth to fulfill her destiny.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Two: Main Course

**Interlude**

"I hate that storm," a frightened Velma looked at the rain streaking down the window then turned her attention toward Shaggy.  
"Why Velma? It's not like it's personal." She had to smile, he had the ability to make her smile at any given moment.

"You sure about that?" She had begun looking at him through different eyes lately and she liked what she saw. His brown hair acted as if it had a mind of its own, resisting any attempt to tame it. She had the sudden urge to run her fingers through his hair just to see his reaction but was able to curtail the motherly impulse. His eyes were his best feature she thought, ranging from soft to dark depending on his mood.

He was no longer that cute awkward teen she had grown up with; instead he had matured into a quite handsome man. She seldom wore makeup or lipstick relying on the natural look. This morning however she had spent an inordinate amount of time to put her face on, even choosing a more form fitting sweater and skirt...and Shaggy hadn't said a word. Velma opened the oven door, checking on the progress of their turkey, "Fred, the turkey's done. Could you take it out of the oven?" Fred entered the kitchen to fulfill the request, leaving Shaggy to fend for himself for a while.

Shaggy watched Velma reach up to retrieve the large serving tray for carving the bird. '_Dummkoph! _Just how stupid do you have to be to miss the fact she is one fine looking woman and spent who knows how much time on her make up and new outfit and you haven't complimented her once!' He decided to correct that oversight as soon as possible no matter how long it took.

After carving the turkey, Fred spotted the nod from Daphne, their own secret sign that she wanted to talk to Velma alone; he made a hasty retreat back to the living room.

"Okay, Velma, you've banged enough pots and pans around. What's wrong? And don't say 'nothing', I know you too well."

"Nothing's wrong!" The brunette shot back quickly, "really, nothing's wrong." She repeated, softening the retort. But wasn't that the problem? All that work, and for Velma it had been work, to get her makeup just the way she wanted and a new outfit and Shaggy hadn't even noticed. It was aggravating.

"I said don't tell me 'nothing', you're acting like Scooby in a room full of ghosts. It's Shaggy isn't it?"

"Oh, alright, yes, it's Shaggy! I wear makeup, pick an outfit I think he'll like and I might as well be wrapped in an old blanket with grease smeared over my face for all Shaggy notices." She sniffled, holding back the tears that threatened to cascade down her cheeks, "I don't know what to do."

Her friend placed her hands on her shoulders, "take a deep breath, go touch up your makeup, I'll take care of the guys...and don't worry so much, I think Shaggy _has _noticed you. He's blind if he hasn't."

Shaggy had indeed noticed; his eyes followed Velma as she returned to the room, taking a seat across the room from Shaggy. She gave no indication if she saw the disappointment in his eyes as he picked up on the story.

**End Interlude**

The wharf at Plymouth was crowded with people. There were 'separatists' some here to say farewell to friends and loved ones; others stood by bags and baggage, waiting to board one of the two ships headed to America. 'Strangers', hired by the Charter of the Virginia Company to fill out the passenger compliment of separatists milled around as if not sure about the decision they had made that would take them to this new land to fulfill the one year contract. And there were sailors, some were crew members for the 'Speedwell' and 'Mayflower' while others entered and left the meeting places where such men went to sign on or just to visit with friends while they waited for their names to be called.

Macalla made her way through the melee of the crowd. The delicate fan she fluttered above her bosom looked expensive mainly because it was; made from the finest French silk, it would have cost a years salary for the average person. She used the fan effectively to protect her nose from the stench of the crowd and from the smells of the wharf itself.

The crowd parted at her passing; gentlemen tipped their hats accompanied by brief nod at her beauty. Ladies were less sociable but stepped aside to make way for this woman of the world. Macalla looked demurely over the fan at the gentlemen and with daring disdain at the ladies. With a regal walk befitting a woman of her status, she made her way to an open air cafe, ordered coffee, a roll with cheese then turned to locate a table. With the excitement of two ships departing the tables were full. She despaired at the sight, then beamed when a gentleman rose from his table, "all the tables appear to be taken, would you do me the honor to join me in your repast?" It would be better than trying to stand while balancing hot coffee, roll and cheese without burning herself.

"Thank you for your kindness," she took the offered seat, "Macalla Kincaid." She offered her hand; the gentleman held her hand a moment, bowing slightly, his breath warm on her fingers.

"Duncan MacRogers, at your service," he reclaimed his seat, looking at the dark eyes of his breakfast companion. His blood ran cold; he had recognized the name and the accent. Fellow Scot or not, he knew he had just met a beautiful but formidable enemy. He would have to be on his guard or his life would be forfeit.

"Are you traveling to this New England?" She fluttered her fan then dabbed her lips after taking a taste of her roll. She partook a closer look at her host; young, she guessed his age at nineteen or twenty at most, good looking if not handsome and at ease with himself. Mentally, she waved him away as one would an annoying mosquito; she would deal with this one when the time came. She smiled.

"Yes, I've managed to secure passage on the ship, 'Mayflower', my family castle has become overcrowded of late, my father decided the answer lay in sending me to this America on family business. And you?" 'mull that over with your roll' he thought. There was no reason to lie; this little parrying fooled no one.

"Mayhaps we will meet in this America, I will be sailing on the 'Speedwell'."

Time passed as the two ate and talked about the coming adventure. Outwardly they seemed like any two young people who had just met, enjoying the pleasant company of the other. Duncan had chosen to add a sweet treat to his breakfast and offered half to Macalla who accepted the treat sharing a distinct cheese that went well with the sweet.

Inwardly, a battle of wits raged as if between two battle weary opponents; both careful not to give their adversary an edge. They had just finished their breakfast when the first call went out; the 'Speedwell' and 'Mayflower' were ready to accept passengers. "May I escort you to your ship?" Duncan held her chair for her.

"I don't want to be a trouble; you need to get yourself on board your own ship."  
"It's no trouble, I assure you," he smiled warmly, offering her his arm.  
"Indeed, it might be safer, a young woman traveling alone canna be too careful," her disarming smile had no effect on Duncan. He was on a family quest to retrieve the stolen amulet and no one, including Macalla Kincaid, would influence him to drop his guard.

-Xxxxxx

"I fear this is where we part," Macalla announced at the gang plank, "thank you for your kindness. Perhaps we will meet in America."

"I look forward to that meeting," Duncan bowed, kissing her fingertips. His eyes followed her up the gang plank before turning on his heel, making his way through the throng toward the waiting 'Mayflower'.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Three: Castle in the Sea

***Interlude***

Shaggy squirmed around attempting to find a more comfortable position. He was unsuccessful in his attempts. "Need a break?" Daphne asked unnecessarily, "Where is Scooby, I thought he'd be here to make sure there were no leftovers?"

"The doctor said to keep weight off the ankle; I don't think he meant to be sofa ridden," a smiling Shaggy replied, "I think Scoob's out checking out everyone's Thanksgiving dinner. He'll show up later I guess."

"I think we all could use a break," Velma added, "but you don't get out of telling the rest of this exciting tale. Daphne, Fred, help clear these dishes, we'll leave every thing out. Every one can snack

if they want too. Scooby will just have to fend for himself."

"I wouldn't dream of not finishing the story," Shaggy stretched as best he could while leaning heavily on the crutches, "the best is yet to come." He hobbled slowly down the hallway.

Velma fussed over Shaggy when he returned, taking the crutches, placing them out of the way and helping lift the injured ankle upon the ottoman. Although he didn't like the helpless feeling but did like the attention Velma was showing not to mention the closeness that same attention brought.

"You missed your calling, Velma. You would have made an excellent nurse...or cook. You girls did an outstanding job on the preparations." There! And he didn't trip over his own tongue once, but he hadn't said anything about his real feelings for her.

"Taking care of a friend is one thing," she laughed, "taking care of a hospital wing full of strangers is something completely different. I wonder what's keeping Fred and Daphne?" She changed the subject, "I know Daphne wanted to hear more about Macalla."

"You're looking very shocking..." Shaggy said then realized what he'd said when Velma fumed,

"What! Shaggy, I thought...oh."

"I didn't mean..."

"I know what you meant!" Deflated, Velma returned to her seat.

The answer to her question regarding Fred and Daphne became apparent when Fred and Daphne

made their appearance;Velma had to avert her mist filled eyes when she noticed the missed lipstick stain on Fred's neck and the fact that Daphne's lipstick had been hastily repaired.

Shaggy hoped he'd have the chance to explain later; now he continued his story...

***End Interlude***

On board the 'Speedwell' Captain Reynolds shouted, "All visitors ashore!" Good byes were said amid many sobs and hugs.

"All visitors have departed," the mate informed the captain who reached over to ring a bell. Sailors rushed to their stations, preparing to cast off. At the sound of the ringing of the bell a second time the dockers lifted the loops off the bollards and the 'Speedwell' floated slowly away from the dock. The mate called out orders and the sails billowed out catching the wind. Three cannons on board fired a salvo and the voyage to America had begun.

Once the wind had dissipated the smoke and smell of burning black powder away, Macalla looked around; no one was paying attention to her. She broadcast searching fingers of her power; she wasn't interested in a battle so close to the coast, only to ascertain the location of the amulet. If it was aboard, she would soon know and also who possessed it. Then plans could be made for its destruction. She was only looking for some resistance to her power.

Several minutes had passed, her power searching every corner of the ship. No resistance was detected

and Macalla let out a cry of frustration. _She was_ _on the wrong ship!_

Earlier, Duncan had left the beautiful Macalla and soon spotted the 'Mayflower' lying at anchor. The three masted converted cargo ship wasn't that impressive but reminded Duncan of the home castle he had so recently vacated; a true castle in the sea.

He made his way on board, stowed his belongings and returned on deck to observe the departure.

At the correct time, Captain Christopher Jones gave the word to depart and sailors moved like monkeys

in the rigging, deploying the sails. The 'Mayflower' had begun its voyage to America. The 'Speedwell'

floated away from the dock, following the 'Mayflower' out to sea.

It would prove a short journey. With a shout from a lookout, all eyes turned to spy the fluttering signal flags displayed on the main mast of the 'Speedwell'. Captain Jones gave the order and the 'Mayflower'

hove to, lying quietly in the water until the 'Speedwell' could come alongside.

After much yelling between the respective captains, the leaks were deemed too severe to repair and it was decided to return to port; the 'Mayflower' would follow in case of further trouble. The signal flags had told Duncan two things. He smiled at the mental scene of Macalla, dressed in silks and expensive dress, bailing water to stay afloat. Seems the 'Speedwell' wasn't the only thing to spring a leak. The second thing was that the amulet was on board the 'Mayflower', just as his family spies had reported.

Now, he only had to find it and complete his quest and return home at the first opportunity.

-Xxxxxx

The 'Speedwell' was put in dry dock; a ship surveyor was hired to inspect the ship. He poked and jabbed the length of the ship for two days. On the third day a meeting was called to discuss what the surveyor had found.

"Can the ship be repaired?" was the question on everyone's lips.

"Aye, the leaks can be fixed but it'll cost more to replace the masts than the ship's worth. The masts are too big, makes the timbers twist. Fix one leak, put her in the water and another will turn up at the first heavy blow," the surveyor told the gathered group.

"What do you suggest?"

"Sell her for scrap, that's all she's worth now. She's an old ship, time to put her out of her misery."

And so it was decided. The 'Mayflower' would make the voyage alone. There was no time to find another ship. It had taken three years to get to this point in time. Eleven passengers from the 'Speedwell' agreed to make the journey aboard the 'Mayflower'; the separatists hired three sailors from the 'Speedwell'.

On September 6, 1620 the 'Mayflower' slipped into history on her voyage across the treacherous ocean.

She carried one hundred two passengers plus some thirty crewmen and all their bag and baggage.

***Interlude***

"It should be noted that Columbus made his famous voyage over the same ocean in thirty three days.

The 'Mayflower' would take twice as long at sixty six days," Shaggy lowered his voice, "of course, Columbus made the trip earlier in the year...and he didn't have a Sister of the Dark Cloth on board."

When Shaggy stopped speaking she broke, rushing down the hallway.

"Go after her, Shaggy. I don't know what's going on between you two but you need to talk to her."

Daphne nodded her head at the disappearing Velma.

Shaggy nodded his head in agreement and with help from Fred and Daphne to get upright and crutches situated, followed Velma .

***End Interlude***

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Their First Thanksgiving

A/N: For those of you who are reading only the *Interlude*: That is only half of the story. A lot of research went into the 'Mayflower' part of the story. It is there for a reason. The last chapter contains a surprise and a twist that will not make any sense if you don't read the complete story.

Chapter Four: A New Name

****Interlude****

Velma wasn't at a dead run when she reached her door, but it would be a close call. Flinging open the door she stopped long enough to close the door. She didn't feel like having Daphne following and see the tears that were already forming in the corners of her eyes.

She removed her horn-rims, polishing the lenses with the hem of her sweater. What difference did it make now? She planned on changing clothes anyhow. Enough was enough with trying to impress Shaggy! Placing her glasses on the night stand, she lifted the sweater over her head and flung it toward the clothes hamper. It wasn't like her love life was something to brag about; it had gone into the toilet a long time ago and stayed there. Shaggy hadn't changed anything today and it didn't appear he would be changing anything in the near future.

She looked out at the storm, seeing her reflection in the window. Shaggy had said it wasn't personal. Brilliant observation, how could a storm be personal? Her feelings raged inside as much as the storm raged outside. Usually she liked storms, liked the rain that came along with them. She liked dancing in the rain until she was soaked to the skin; dancing to music only she could hear. This storm was...different some how. She felt no desire to dance in this storm.

She had pulled a new sweater off its hanger when she heard the knock at the door. The storm must have interfered with her thought process; she usually would simply say 'come in'. Now, today, she held the sweater in one hand and opened the door with the other.

Shaggy stood there, head hung down, slowly rocking back and forth on the aluminum crutches; he was totally lost in his own world of thoughts, ignorant of her state of undress or the fact that she had even opened the door. She lifted the sweater up quickly to cover herself, "Shaggy...What...?"

"I...I wanted to...," he raised is head finally; the fact that Velma was standing in front of him almost topless slowly registered. "Wait a minute," Velma closed the door. Pulling the sweater over her head, she combed her fingers through her hair. 'Why did I have to start crying now!' her shoulders slumped at the sight in the mirror of the ruined make up. 'Too late to do anything with it now!' she thought as she reopened the door. "Come in," she invited meekly, stepping back to allow him to enter her inner sanctum before closing the door.

"I wanted to explain what I said earlier," 'So far so good', he thought, "I meant to say you looked shockingly beautiful today." His eyes sought hers and finding them, begged for acceptance.

Her heart leaped to her throat, the storm, this tempestuous storm inside her chest closed her throat making it impossible to breathe. She tried to take a breath, just one; beginning to feel light headed, swaying slightly, her legs weren't going to hold her much longer. Shaggy caught her before she fell.

"Velma, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Shaggy. Nothing is wrong now. I'm sorry I interrupted you earlier. I'll try not to do it in the future."

"Would...would you like to see a movie next weekend?"

"With you? Are you actually asking me out on a date?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. Dinner and a movie if you're not busy."

"Just the two of us, right? What about Scooby?" 'It's not like I have a social calendar to check'

"Maybe we could pawn him off on Fred and Daphne. We need to get back, I do have a story to tell."

"Hold me...just a little longer. I don't think Fred and Daph will mind."

Velma extracted herself from his arms reluctantly; "I guess we need to get back."

"Do me a favor?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"What?" wondered Velma.

"Wear the sweater you had on earlier?"

She looked at the sweater she had tossed toward the hamper, it hadn't quite made it, it lay on the floor beside the hamper, " I think that could be arranged."

Smiling, holding Shaggy's hand, she coughed several times as they made their way down the hallway.

The coughs were louder than necessary, a warning to Fred and Daphne.

Comfortably settled back on the sofa, Shaggy began his story...

****End Interlude****

The first days of the voyage went smoothly. Everyone settled into a daily routine. The ship was carried by the seahorses (*) over the face of the ocean. To escape the crowded confines of 'tween decks, Duncan took to enjoying a pipe on deck before turning in for the night. On one such evening he became aware of a rustling noise. Turning to investigate, he found himself face to face with the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to startle you. Pray forgive me." Her voice sang, "I thought I'd take some air before retiring," she explained.

"It's quite all right, I was about to have a pipe before turning in."

"Don't let me stop you," she lowered her eyes, "I enjoy the smell of a good tobacco." He guessed her age at eighteen with the fresh bloom of youth upon her cheeks.

"Elizabeth!" they turned to see a mature woman coming on deck.

"Mother, over here. I..." the girl was cut off when her mother said,

"Elizabeth! There you are and speaking to a stranger without being properly introduced or chaperoned," the woman joined them, "you forgot your shawl."

"Elizabeth Tilley, Sir." She extended a delicate hand while her mother draped the shawl over her shoulders.

"Duncan MacRogers, Mistress Tilley, at your service." Duncan bowed, taking her hand in his rough one.

"A Scot?" Mrs. Tilley snorted.

"Aye, of Clan MacRogers, Mrs. Tilley. Laird Chastain MacRogers is my father."

"Will you join us, MacBaggy Rogers, while you smoke your pipe?" her mirthful blue eyes danced and her voice sang a song to his heart. His clothes were baggy; he liked the sound of his new name, the way she said it.

"If your beautiful mother will serve as our chaperone." he looked at the mother and saw the same dancing eyes. He thought Mr. Tilley was a very lucky man.

"Very well, come along Master MacRogers. My first husband, God rest his soul, was a Rogers."

They had only taken a few steps away from the rail when he spotted movement over Elizabeth's shoulder. It was Macalla, shadowing them. He wondered how long she would wait. A confrontation was coming; that was as sure as the quickening breeze he felt on his cheek.

Their stroll ended at the hatch leading 'tween decks, "Don't be long Elizabeth, it's getting cold. A pleasure meeting you Master MacRogers." Mrs. Tilley descended the ladder while Elizabeth answered, "I won't be long. Good night, mother."

"I pray you didn't mind my little playing with your name," she offered.

"Not at all, I kinda like it. 'MacBaggy' it shall be...between us."

"Good night then, MacBaggy. I hope and pray we have other walks together."

"As do I. Good night...Lizzy." She smiled her special smile and descended the ladder.

He returned to the railing, finishing his pipe and thinking of...Lizzy for she was Lizzy now, to him.

Knocking the ash from his pipe, he wasn't aware of the stealthy footsteps approaching; only the pain in his head and the blackness that engulfed him.

TBC

A/N: * The sailors of that time and maybe today called the white caps on the ocean waves seahorses.


	5. Chapter 5

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Five: A Lot of Whipping Cream and Egg-Nog

*****Interlude*****

"What happened!" Who did it!" his friends wanted to know all at one time, "Were you named for that ancestor?" Velma wanted to know.

"All in good time, I could use something to drink. My throat is awfully dry," he rubbed his throat meaningfully. "Chastain is a family name, many male members have carried the name including my father and myself."

"I'll get it," Velma rose, "would you like some egg-nog? It might be good for your throat."

"That sounds good," he watched the brunette walk toward the kitchen.

"Daphne, would you and Fred go to the store? We need some more whipping cream for the desserts," Velma called from the kitchen. The red head followed her friend into the kitchen; looking into the fridge to look at all the cans of whipping cream. A knowing smile formed on her full mouth as she raised her eyebrows in an unasked question.

"Lots of whipping cream," Velma smiled, nodding at the front door.

"Fred, let's go to the store," she called out, "we need to pick up some whipping cream."

"In this storm? I thought we had bought..."

"Fred, you can drive my car," Daph said sweetly; taking his hand, leading him to the door.

Velma poured the egg-nog, returning to hand it to Shaggy. He took several deep droughts before placing it on the end table, "what was that all about? We had plenty." He was astonished when the brunette knelt beside him, leaned over to rest her weight on one hand, facing him.

With her eyes lowered demurely, Velma answered, "I wanted to ask you something."

"What did you want to ask?" he bent the uninjured leg up, letting her lean back.

"Did you...mean what you said? About me being beautiful?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, I meant it," laughing, he slipped his arms around her, gently pulling her forward. She willingly followed his guiding, leaning against his chest, "I meant every word."

"I've never seen myself as pretty," her whisper was barely audible.

"you've always been beautiful to me," he assured her. The egg-nog had felt good on his dry throat but having this girl in his arms felt even better.

"I wanted to impress you today," she leaned back, looking into his face, "I made you dessert. I hope you'll like it."

"You didn't ask me, what dessert did you choose to make? And what are you having?"

"You've known me long enough to know my favorite," leaning forward until their lips were only a fraction of an inch apart, "cherry pie...with French Vanilla ice cream."

"Two scoops, if I remember, with an extra cherry on top of each scoop," he finished for her, "won't Fred and Daphne be back soon?"

"Not for a long time. Daphne solved the clue of the extra whipping cream."

"And my dessert?"

"I chose something special...cheesecake. New York style. Thick, rich, creamy cherry cheesecake," her voice was quivering, low and husky.

At the light pressure on her back she kissed him. It wasn't her first kiss but the first time she had made the first move. First the change of clothing and the makeup and now this. Breathless, she finally pulled away from his lips. She felt reckless yet free for the first time. A ripple of sheer excitement sent shivers throughout her body, "you taste like egg-nog," she laughed, eagerly pressing her lips against his.

An hour later, the brunette jerked when the door bell chimed. Jumping up she straightened her clothing as she walked to the door. Opening the door she found Fred, holding a whole case of whipping cream, "I hope this is enough," he said sheepishly. Velma burst out laughing.

After putting the extra whipping cream away, they joined Shaggy in the living room. Fred and Daphne looked at him expectantly but it was Velma who spoke first, "We, Shaggy and I, have an announcement. We'd like you two to be the first to know," she reached over squeezing his hand, "you want to tell them?"

There it was again. He couldn't say a word. He looked over at Velma; she was blushing, her eyes misty, waiting for him to make _their_ announcement. And how was he going to tell Scooby, his best friend. That would take a lot of Scooby snacks! He opened his mouth to speak but only a high pitched whine came out,

"guys, we've decided to date...as a couple."

"That's wonderful and about time you two!" Daphne squeezed Fred's hand meaningfully.

After congratulations were exchanged, Shaggy resumed the telling of his story.

*****End Interlude*****

Duncan knew immediately where he was when he opened his eyes. The hold was dark, damp and cold but enough light filtered down from 'tween decks for him to see the ship's cargo lashed to the sides of the ship. He had been tied and gagged; he could hear people still walking around above him which meant he'd been brought down through the aft hatch.

The ropes binding his arms and feet were tied with a sailors knot but hurriedly; They gave enough for him to reach the boot that housed Wee Willie. The boots had been specially made; one hid the six inch, double edged dirk that was his constant companion. The other carried his 'walking around money', a stash of currency for emergency use. Wee willie, once freed, made quick work of the ropes. Duncan had a good idea who had done this and he planned on repaying in kind. The fact that Macalla wasn't behind this attack never crossed his mind.

The gag yielded no clues; a common handkerchief carried by most of the women on board and easily lifted. The ship was rocking violently and Duncan made his way on deck by the aft hatchway. The quickening breeze he had felt while walking with Elizabeth had increased into a full blown storm.

"Get Below! And stay there!" A sailor yelled at him then scampered into the rigging, to take in the sails.

"_CRACK"_ The ship had rolled on a large wave; The deck opened up and Duncan was washed off his feet, falling the five feet into the 'tween decks. The cold water soaked everyone; terrified women screamed and men groaned as they were thrown about the crowded area. He could see Elizabeth and worked his way toward her; another wave rushed in and he saw her go down. Grabbing her by the waist, "Hold on!" he called out as yet another wave poured through the hole left by the buckled beam. The ship seemed to right itself, a vibration shook the ship and most of the water ran out into the bilge.

"Thank you," she stammered, shaking from being drenched by the cold water but she didn't step away nor did she withdraw her arms from around his neck. He could feel her trembling; her heart racing against his chest. He felt he wanted to hold her thus forever; she had a spirit about her that would not be easy daunted.

"Are you all right, daughter?" Mr. Tilley had made his way through the knee deep waters.

"I'm fine, father. Thanks to M...Mr. MacRogers," she had caught herself, correcting the near mistake.

"See to your mother!" Mr. Tilley jerked Elizabeth roughly from his arms. Elizabeth turned to obey her father but not before she whispered, "thank you again, MacBaggy."

The two men stood in the freezing water, each taking the measure of the other. Finally, Mr. Tilley stuck out his hand, "thank you for assisting my daughter, Master MacRogers." If more was to be said, neither man had the chance.

"Get Mr. Clark and Mr. Eaton!" They turned to look into the weathered face of Captain Christopher Jones, "gentlemen, it appears we have a slight leak."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Six: Dessert is Served

******Interlude******

"If you two are now dating, are you going to continue solving mysteries?" Fred needed to know and when Shaggy indicated he needed a break from talking, he asked the question that had been weighing on his mind since the announcement. Losing one half of Mystery Inc wasn't something he wanted to think about right now, or ever.

"Fred," an exasperated Velma answered him, "we're only dating, not moving to an alien planet. Of course we will continue." She knew some things would change, naturally, and Fred didn't deal well with change, whether it came about naturally or otherwise.

"Yeah Freddy, I think it's so romantic and sweet," Daphne sighed, "I wish we had champagne to toast the new couple but with this storm..." her voice trailed off. "Well, they were closing the roads when we came home."

"I wonder where Scooby is?" Velma looked out the window at the driving snow, drawing everyone's attention to the malevolent storm outside.

"If I know Scooby, he's eating mom and dad out of a month's worth of food." Shaggy laughed, but fooled no one.

"I'll call, see if he's there. I need to call my folks anyway, let them know we're all safe." The brunette picked up the house phone, dialed the number and listened for a brief time before replacing the receiver, defeated. "Line's dead."

Fred and Daphne reached for their own cell phones. "Battery's dead," Fred sighed, looking at Daphne.

"Mine too, Freddy. Jeepers, this is freaky- I know I recharged the battery this morning."

"Make that three dead cell phones and the house phone," Velma's voice carried a nervous twinge.

"Mine is in my room, you can check it to make sure but I wouldn't be surprised if it's dead too." Shaggy pushed himself back into a more comfortable position.

Velma came back a minute later, a confused and slightly disturbed expression on her face and Shaggy's phone in her hand, the screen blank.

"What's going on? You were right, Shaggy, your cell is dead. We're shut off completely. And what's with your room? It's not neat and tidy but it's not the usual chaotic mess it usually is." Velma sat beside Shaggy, reaching for his hand, wanting to be comforted, reassured that everything would be okay.

"It's just the storm. The storm is probably playing havoc with all the communications," Shaggy offered, like he was trying to convince himself as well as Velma, "How about some of that dessert you mentioned."

"Good idea, I'll help serve," Daphne said quickly, "this storm is getting on my nerves." The girls went into the kitchen, both trying to block out the sound of the storm whipping at the windows, and pulled out the desserts and whipping cream. "Shaggy, would you like a sample of my pie along with yours?" Velma called out as they started placing the cut desserts on plates.  
"If you don't mind sharing," came Shaggy's reply.  
"There's plenty," Velma placed both pieces on a plate, smiling slightly.

"I'm really happy for you and Shaggy, Velma. I just wish Freddy..." Daphne hugged her friend, trying to hide the look in her eyes-sadness mixed with relief and gladness for her friend.  
"Daphne, Fred doesn't like change. Did you see his reaction at our announcement? Shaggy and my dating will change Mystery Inc. It has to. Fred needs stability, especially when it's personal."

"Is that what you did to Shaggy today? Offer him stability?"  
"Daph, I did the opposite," she laughed. "I got tired of waiting and I blew him out of the water! Maybe you should do the same to Fred...then show him that change isn't always a bad thing. If you want some time alone, Shaggy and I can disappear."

"And just _where_ would you two disappear in this storm?" Velma upended a can of whipping cream onto Shaggy's plate, adding an extra portion to the cheesecake. Picking up the two dessert plates, she smiled at her friend and walked into the living room.

"Oh...OH!" This wasn't the same Velma she had known in the past.

******End Interlude******

There was little sleep that night as Mr. Clark, the Master Mate and Mr. Eaton, a ship builder, inspected and discussed the damage. "If we had a screw jack we could raise the beam and shore her up," Mr. Clark observed. Duncan had overheard the discussion and, unable to sleep, joined the two men, "There's one in the hold," he offered, but gave no indication as to how he had come by that knowledge.

"Show me! Mr. Clark, get planks, ropes, anything you might think we'll be needing for the job."

Duncan led the way into the hold; Mr. Eaton called for several sailors to help carry the jack 'tween decks and position it under the sagging timber. It took the rest of the night to raise the beam into place and secure it to Mr. Eaton's satisfaction. Captain Jones was called for; after assurances from Mr. Eaton and Mr. Clark that the repair would hold until proper repairs could be made, the Captain made his way up the ladder onto the top deck. The storm had decreased during the night, the sun was just peeking over the watery horizon when Duncan and another man, John Howland, followed the Captain.

"Set sails!" The Captain called out, "Helmsman, get us back on course!"

A wave, a left over from the storm, hit on the quarter and the ship heeled over. Mr. Howland was knocked off his feet. The rushing water carried Howland through the rails and into the black water.

"Man overboard!" The helmsman and Duncan yelled simultaneously. Grabbing the coil of halyard of the top sail, Duncan jumped overboard, joining John Howland in the freezing water.

He knew he had only seconds to find Howland or both men would be lost. Seconds to find one man in an ocean of water as black as an Autumn sky. The 'separatists', including Lizzy, believed in miracles; it would take a miracle to save Howland. Not seeing Lizzy again urged him on more than dying or anything the deep ocean could offer. The cold was creeping steadily into his bones chilling him to his very core. His body shook; the cold stealing the body heat generated by swimming. He would have cursed his own stupidity of jumping into the ocean had he not needed the energy to stay alive. Fewer seconds were left.

Howland found him rather than he finding Howland; or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Howland's body bumped into him. Either way, he grabbed the unconscious man, wrapping the rope around the body. He had no time to tie a proper knot; his hands would have refused to obey the intricate commands needed to accomplish such a feat.

Unseen by Duncan, the ship rolled with a wave; with the ship sliding down into the trough Duncan and Howland were ripped from the water, flying through the morning air. And then there was the ship; the big side of the 'mayflower' and they were flying toward the ship with no way to slow down. The collision knocked the wind, what was left anyway, from his lungs but he was able to hold on. Sailors used a boat hook to catch the rope and haul both men on board.

He heard her voice before he saw her, the gentle feminine tones calling, "Let me through, please." She pushed her way through the gathered crowd. Lizzy carried a blanket and wrapped it around him, smiling at him as she did so. "Do you make a habit of saving people? We need to get you below, get you into some dry clothes."

"I'll need help. My legs don't seem to want to work." He was half carried, have dragged by several men. On his way down, he glimpsed Macalla behind the gathered women. She was smiling.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Seven: The Broken Window

*******Interlude*******

The storm had spent hours searching for an entry into the home without success. The home had several weak areas; the storm concentrated on these. It didn't take much to break a window. All it would take would be a pebble with enough force behind it.

Shaggy had just finished his dessert when they heard it. The crash of broken glass was unmistakable. "That sounds like your room!" Velma exclaimed, looking round at Shaggy. "Will you be okay while we check it out?" Fred and Daphne had already started down the hall to deal with the rogue window. "Of course, wish I could help."  
"you take a break, get some rest, you'll need it...for telling the story." The way she said it made him feel like a man going over Niagara Falls...without a barrel.

The storm had poured snow and a cold wind through the broken window. The girls cleaned up the broken glass and Fred had gone into the basement, returning with enough needed material to shore up the window until the storm passed and the window could be replaced.

It took a while to close the window, blocking the storm, but they got there after a while. When the temporary repairs were in place, Fred followed Velma out of the room. He became aware that Daphne had not followed them; thinking she might have taken the time to powder her nose he said, "go ahead, Vel, I'll wait for Daphne."

He found Daphne in the bedroom, looking at the repaired window. He walked over to her, realizing that she was crying. wiping a tear from her cheek, he spoke gently to her, "Why are you crying?" 'Girls could be so...girly', he thought.

"I felt like crying," she replied.

This was uncharted territory for Fred; he'd seen girls cry before, but not Daphne. Daphne had an inner strength about her that he admired. This was the time to fall back on small talk or maybe come up with some quick come back like Velms always seemed to. The problem was, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. 'Play it safe, a hug would be safe right about now,' he thought. "Come on, Daph. Velms and Shag are waiting for us," he said quietly, trying to pull her into a hug, thinking that he could let her cry on his shoulder a while and everything would be back to normal.

He was surprised when she pushed him away but stayed close enough that their noses almost touched, "Are you blind or just dumb!" Her tears spilled out of her eyes anew, running down her cheeks but she wasn't through, "That window can be repaired," she said angrily, wiping her wet cheeks, "I'm not sure about my broken heart."

"Who broke your heart, Daph? I'll..."

"You'll do what, Freddie? Build a trap? you are breaking my heart!"  
"What are you talking about?" Surely she didn't mean he was the cause of her broken heart. He wasn't even aware she had a broken heart! It had to be someone else! But who?

"True love requires a trust between two people, do you trust me, Freddie?" He tried to step back, catch a breath, time to think. "Of course I do, Daph," but she wasn't giving him any space, no time to think.

"True love requires a choice," she was saying.  
"Oh, I get it now. This is about Velma and Shaggy and them being a couple isn't it...isn't it?"  
"No, Fred, this has nothing to do with Shaggy and Velma or them being a couple. This is about us as a couple. True love requires a change. I want that change. you have to want it too. I'll give you the time to make your choice; but don't take too long. Tell Velma and Shaggy I had to powder my nose." With that she ran from the room leaving Fred to ponder what had just happened. He felt caught in a trap not of his making. And he didn't like the feeling.

When Daphne came in a few minutes later she chose an overstuffed chair as far away from Fred as possible and still be in the same room, crossing her long legs. "I'd love to hear more of your story, Shaggy, please continue." Taken aback and feeling a coldness in the room that came from no storm, Shaggy had no choice but to continue.

*******End Interlude*******

The small charcoal fire had been restarted and MacBaggy had been seated and left alone. And then Elizabeth was there, saying, "Here, drink some tea. It'll warm you from the inside out." He was shaking violently both from the dunking in the ocean and her closeness. The tea threatened to escape the cup.

"Let me help," she offered, placing her hands over his. The tea was weak but hot and with her assistance he was able to take a few sips. "Thank you," he managed to say between clinched teeth. Elizabeth spoke again as he drank. "Food is being prepared, you must eat then we need to get you out of those wet clothes or you'll catch your death."  
"We?" MacBaggy looked around; they had been left alone like they had some indescribable disease, the separatist maiden and the stranger. She cast her eyes down demurely, pointing to a blanket that had been hung for as much privacy as one blanket could muster. Raising her eyes, those provocative woman's eyes that promised so much. "When you've recovered your strength."

With the hot liquid warming him from the inside, as promised, and Elizabeth's hand feeding him, his shaking diminished to the occasional shiver and then stopped entirely. He didn't want to leave; he was afraid this helping angel would disappear. A thousand questions presented themselves and most pertained to Elizabeth. What chance did a lowly Scottish stranger have with this separatist maiden? He had no answer to that question but determined to find out.

Freshly changed and with Wee Willie and his walking around monies safely stored in his dry boots, for in the end he had to step behind the blanket, he left his sodden clothes in Elizabeth's care and went in search of her father. He found Mr. Tilley deep in conversation with another man. "Pardon my rude interruption, may I have a word with you, Mr. Tilley, in private?"

"Mr. MacRogers isn't it?" the other man spoke, "My name is John Carver. Mr. Howland, the man you just saved, is not only my manservant but a friend as well. I would thank you and shake your hand."  
"Thank nothing of it, Mr. Carver." They shook hands then Mr. Carver addressed Mr. Tilley. "Better be careful of this young man, John. He might take Miss Elizabeth away from you."  
"There is no privacy here, shall we go on deck?" John Tilley indicated the ladder. MacBaggy preceded Mr. Tilley.

They walked the deck in the crisp morning air, The sails billowed out, carrying the 'Mayflower' swiftly across the water. It was Mr. Tilley who broke the companionable silence. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

"I wish to ask your permission to court Miss Elizabeth." John Tilley threw his head back and bellowed with laughter. "You would, would you?" The laughter died away and John Tilley became serious. "Many lads have tried to court my Elizabeth. She has been kind in sending each one away. You have my permission but Elizabeth has a mind of her own. You'll have to win her on your own. Would you like to partake dinner with us this evening?"

That evening Duncan "MacBaggy" Rogers did partake dinner with the Tilley family. The meager rations were made delicious with Elizabeth's eyes playing cat and mouse with his. MacBaggy could not think of another meal he had enjoyed more.

The young couple also enjoyed an unchaperoned moonlit stroll around the deck later that evening. They found themselves alone when they approached the hatch and ladder leading 'tween decks. Elizabeth stopped, turning to her companion, speaking in her distinctive voice. "I'm not ready to go down just yet." MacBaggy wasn't ready either, waiting for her to continue. "I'll need to thank my father."

"Why, Lizzy?" he asked.  
"For giving his permission for you to court me, MacBaggy." she kissed his cheek then walked toward the waiting ladder, leaving a stunned man behind.

Thus began the courtship of Elizabeth Tilley. It also marked the beginning of the coughing sickness.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Eight: Scooby Makes an Entrance and Duncan Gets a Clue

********Interlude********

If the storm hadn't died down as if taking a breath before renewing its onslaught, the friends, for they were all still friends, would never have heard the scratching. It caught their attention mainly because it sounded like mice (or rats) running a marathon in the walls. The problem was the fact that the house Mystery Inc called home didn't have mice. Rats, yes, two big rats that loved cheese. These rats were affectionately known as Shaggy and Scooby. They loved cheese, any cheese, so much, it was near impossible to keep cheese in the home.

Shaggy, being immobile, Velma, being concerned for Shaggy's comfort, were both unable to respond. It was Fred who recovered from the surprise of the scratching and answered the door. It could be said that Scooby does not walk anywhere; he was known to amble, saunter, skip and tiptoe. Now he bounded into the room, shaking from nose to tail, sending a spray of snowy water in all directions.

"I'll get my hair dryer!" Daphne exclaimed, running down the hall.  
"Not the industrial sized one!" Velma called towards her friends back, "Fred, don't let Scooby jump on Shaggy!"

"How am I supposed to do that!" An exasperated Fred looked down at his wet clothes.  
"Offer him food or some Scooby Snacks, works for me." Velma returned with an arm load of towels. Daphne had not bought her industrial sized hair dryer; just a smaller version that could have been used in wind tunnel experiments.

Shaggy could only watch the ensuing scene of organized chaos and laugh while Fred and Velma attempted to towel dry Scooby in the tornado created by Daphne's hair dryer.

Afterward, a plump, well fed and dry Scooby lay on one side, his head resting on Shaggy's lap. Fred had returned from changing into dry clothes as had Velma and Daphne. Velma commandeered the seat opposite Scooby, beginning to speak as she sat down: "Our phones are out, we couldn't find out if you were with one of our parents and okay." Scooby patted his hard, extended tummy, "Rota rurkey and rooby racks and..."

"We get the picture, Scob, ol' pal. You went from house to house begging turkey and any Scooby Snacks you could. I've been telling the gang the story of MacBaggy Rogers on the 'Mayflower'."

"Rand Rankee Roodle Roo?"

"Yankee Doodle Doo hasn't shown up yet, but I'm sure he will."

"Rell re rhe rtory, raggy!"

"Okay, but I'm not going to start over..." Shaggy patted Scooby's head and scratched behind the ears in Scooby's favorite spot to be scratched.

********End Interlude********

The following days had been storm free and the 'Mayflower' had made good time. The only event of note had been the birth of a baby boy. Elizabeth Hopkins and son were doing well and her husband, Stephen, was overjoyed at being a new father.

For Duncan and Elizabeth the days were a respite and a chance to spend as much time together as was considered proper for that time. Most of their time together was spent with an accompanying chaperone, either Elizabeth's father or most likely her mother; finding time to be alone was difficult on a ship with one hundred and two passengers and a baby. One moonlit night they had their chance. They had taken their time, letting the other couples disappear down the hatch and to bed.

After the barrier of their first kiss had been overcome, Duncan had taken every opportunity to savor the taste of her full, supple lips. He had taken her in his arms with the full intention of renewing that flavorful acquaintance when they were interrupted by an unknown passenger erupting from below and rushing to the rail. Many passengers made the same trip, trying to relieve their intestinal distress. Elizabeth's ardor had grown throughout the day and evening in anticipation of the coming kiss; she stomped her foot in aggravation.

It wasn't the unknown man's duress that had caught Duncan's attention, it was the sailor who was ridiculing the man in foul language. The sailor had been using the foul language toward all the passengers since the beginning of the voyage; he was also the one who had waylaid Duncan with a tap on the head. Duncan saw the chance to repay the debt.

"That poor..." Elizabeth began but was cut off with Duncan's lips covering her own. She eagerly responded, the man and his tormentor forgotten, at least temporarily. For Duncan, it was a pleasant way to silence her and not draw attention to them. "I must say a reluctant good night." Duncan whispered in her ear, still holding her close.

"It's him, isn't it? Do be careful, my darling. I don't like that man." She referred to the sailor who continued his badgering.  
"I don't know of what ye speak." Duncan responded but even in the moon light Elizabeth saw that his smile didn't reach his eyes. Their lips met again, hungrily, passionately as if it were to be their last kiss.  
"Be careful anyway." She clung to him desperately, unwilling to release him but knowing in her heart that she must.

Leaving Elizabeth hadn't been easy but it had to be done. It was easy to follow the unnamed sailor as he walked away; moving quickly, Duncan found a suitable spot and waited. He didn't wait long. The sailor passed, muttering to himself, he never felt the blow that rendered him unconscious. Duncan caught him before he fell and carried him into the hold where he himself had been taken.

"You be the Scot what wants the amulet." The sailor had awakened in a fit of coughing to find he had been bound hand and foot.

"Aye, where be the amulet?" Duncan's voice, low and menacing, cut through the dark. The sailor glared first at the knife in the Scot's hand then into the man's eyes. The knife looked friendlier. "I don't have it." The sailor tried to laugh but ended in another fit of coughing.

"Ye will be telling Wee Willy here or ye won't see the morning sun." The moon light that filtered down into the hold reflected off the knife.

"I sold it...the old man didn't pay me enough to confront you _and_ that witch."

"Who?" The voice was as sharp as the knife.

"I won't be telling ya and facing the witch," the sailor's hand moved to his coat. With a tug that sent him into yet another coughing fit, the sailor reached out his hand, "button, button. Who's got the button? That's the question now ain't it, Gov." Duncan gazed at the object in the sailor's hand before taking it and slipping the button into his pocket. He rose, leaving the sailor to his coughing.

The sailor would be missed come morning. Search parties would be sent out to explore the ship, Duncan would be expected to join; he had to be certain it wouldn't be his party that found the bound sailor.

Now, Duncan walked the deck, puffing contentedly on his pipe, wondering about the button and what it might mean, Elizabeth, and what her kiss might mean but mostly about the new born babe. He vowed to himself that if ever he had a son, he would not name him Oceanus!

Duncan need not have worried about the sailor. He was found, not by Duncan's search party by the way, alive but unconscious. He died three days later and was given a burial at sea.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Nine: Confrontations

*********Interlude*********

The storm had resumed with a vengeance; wind driven snow had accumulated on the windows, turning them into spider- webbed mirrors. The uneasiness Velma had expressed earlier now pervaded the room.

"It feels like a prison," Daphne sighed, turning from looking out a frost- covered window, "a white prison." She stalked down the hallway like an inmate returning to her cell. Fred had turned morose since his talk with Daphne. With Velma looking at Shaggy with those love sick calf eyes of hers, Fred decided it might be a good time to become invisible, if he wasn't already, "Excuse me," He muttered and followed Daphne down the hall, turning quickly into his bedroom.

"Would you like some more egg-nog, cheesecake or...", her voice dropped to a mere whisper as she murmured conspiratorially, " cherry pie and ice cream?"

"Yes," he replied, placing his arm around her shoulder.

"You know, we'll have to tell him...about us", she pointed at a snoozing Scooby.

"I know, but not now. Let sleeping dogs lie."

"Okay for now but right after you finish the story...we tell him. Besides, I've been thinking."

"That usually means trouble for Scoob and me. What is it this time?"

"We talked about Fred and Daph taking Scooby next weekend. I don't know what Daph said to Fred but it might be a good idea to have a plan 'B'."

"That sounds like you already have a plan 'B' and, if I know you, a plan 'C'", a smiling Shaggy said.

"The whole idea is for us to be alone on our first date, right? If Fred and Daphne can't take Scooby, we could arrange a pet sitter for the evening. That way, I could do this..." she had tucked her feet up under her and nuzzled his neck, nipping his earlobe painfully.

As Scooby never seemed to walk anywhere, neither did he come fully awake upon opening his eyes; it was almost like he was sleepwalking. In this state of near wakefulness, Scooby woke to Shaggy's cry of pain. Springing to his best friend's defense, he jumped, landing on Shaggy's mid-section which brought a surprised yelp. Shaggy doubled over, falling off the sofa onto the floor. Velma screamed, moving quickly to the end of the sofa, "Scooby! What's wrong with you!" Deep threatening growls were her only answer.

"Scoob! Stop!" Shaggy had recovered enough to grab Scooby's collar, holding him back. "It's Velma!

"She wasn't hurting me!" This stopped Scooby and he looked down at Shaggy, "Re rwasn't?"

"No Scooby, it may have looked like it but it only surprised me, that's all." Shaggy looked up at a still frightened Velma. "Maybe a pet sitter isn't a bad idea," Velma replied shakily, a ring of fear to her voice.

"Raggy?"

"What, Scoob?" Shaggy moved back onto the sofa and Velma helped get his ankle back on the ottoman.

"Rhy Roes Relma Reed Ra Ritter?" This brought laughter from everyone, including Velma. Fred and Daphne, who had ran back into the room at Velma's scream, joined in on the laughter.

"Not me, Scooby." Velma tried to hold in her laughter. Recovering from her fright, she urged Shaggy to explain.

"Velma doesn't need a sitter. You weren't here when Velma and I announced that we want to date as a couple."

"Ra Rouple? Rou Ron't Rant Re Ralong?" Scooby looked sad, hanging his head, large brown eyes filled with sorrow.

"It's just that we will want to be alone some of the time—especially on our first date this weekend."

Velma patted Scooby's head gently, "there will be plenty of times when you can come with us." She added, lifting his head up.

"Ronest?"

"Honest! And this weekend we'll bring back a big dogie bag just for you."

"Rogie rag? Rere a rogie?"

"I think this would be a good time to continue the story." Shaggy indicated everyone should take seats and get comfortable. "Maybe we can try that nuzzling again...later?" Shaggy hinted, slipping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

"Later, Romeo, tell your story." But she did kiss the injured earlobe playfully.

*********End Interlude*********

"Button, button, whose got the button..." Duncan hoped the sailor had sold the amulet to someone on board or it was going to be a long trip back home. Then there was Macalla; she was on board so it stood to reason that the amulet was also—but where? He had hoped to follow Macalla and let her lead him to the prize but that plan had fizzled as she had shadowed he and Lizzy wherever they went. The hunter had become the hunted.

And then there was Lizzy. He didn't want her in danger but no way presented itself to protect the head strong beauty; short of not seeing her again and that was unacceptable. Her kisses had told him she cared for him as deeply as he cared for her.

"Button, Button, whose got the button..." Duncan fell into a restless sleep.

The next day was much the same as the previous day, weather wise. After taking breakfast with Lizzy and her family, Elizabeth had left with her mother and father to attend a prayer meeting on deck.

"Wait for me." she had murmured, kissing his cheek. As fate would have it, as it often does, Duncan happened to overhear Dr. Fuller call to his servant as he turned to leave, "Button! Bring my bible when you come up!"

Button! Could this be the button the sailor had mentioned? The one who now had the amulet? The young man made his appearance and joined Dr. Fuller, walking to the gathering crowd.

"A moment, Mr. Button." Duncan called out. Elizabeth, hearing Duncan's call, stopped. She said something to her father then turned and began walking back toward the two men; she passed Dr. Fuller who had continued toward the prayer meeting.

"I'll have that amulet...now!" Duncan recognized Macalla's voice and began to run. Duncan only hoped and prayed he and Lizzy, his Lizzy, would survive.

The confrontation with Macalla had begun.

Duncan felt the searing heat as the force of Macalla's power flashed past him, hitting young William Button in the chest. This was no searching tendril but the full blast of her immense power. "Down! Get down!" Duncan yelled at Elizabeth as he gabbed the youth, dropping behind several boxes that had been set up as seats for the women.

"What is the meaning of this? Ye can't just disrupt our prayer meeting like this!" John Tilley was walking toward Macalla; he was hit by the force of Macalla's power, thrown several feet and crumpled into a motionless heap.

"Father!" Elizabeth yelled, starting to her fallen father. "No, Lizzy!" Duncan pulled her down beside him. "Ye can't help him now!"

"Ye can have all the prayer meetings ye want after I get what I came for!" Macalla laughed; it was an evil laugh and Duncan wondered if she was still sane.

"Help me Lizzy!" He turned his attention to the body of the young Button. He knew immediately that there would be another burial at sea. "I need that amulet if anyone is to survive." Duncan opened the man's coat, missing a button he noticed, and found what he was looking for: the amulet had been tied around the man's mid section. A burst of heat exploded the boxes they hid behind.

"I SAID...NOW!" Macalla screamed!

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Their First Thanksgiving

Chapter Ten: A Decision is Made

**********Interlude**********

A collective "gulp" could be heard throughout the room when Shaggy stopped his story, drawing in a deep breath and massaging his throat. "Could I have some eggnog please, Velma?"

"Of course you may," she reached for his hand. "If you promise to finish the story...it's getting kinda late."

"I promise, I'll finish before Thanksgiving."

"It is Thanksgiving, Shaggy!"

"Next year, it's a long story. We may need another turkey."

"Rand Rooby Racks!"

"Yes, Scooby Snacks for sure!" Shaggy called to the brunettes retreating figure.

"I'm having second thoughts about a relationship with a certain man and his dog!" Velma muttered under her breath.

"What was that, Velma? I didn't hear that!"

"Good!" But she brought the requested eggnog back.

Daphne had missed most of this as she walked into the bathroom, checking her makeup; she settled for and applied a little lip gloss. She had been of two minds during Shaggy's telling his story. One mind had listened to Shaggy; the other had been busy thinking about Fred and their recent discussion. Every time she'd tried to get close, to talk, he'd back off, making excuse after excuse. The time for excuses was over.

Once the decision was made, the rest should be easy. A sly smile formed at the corners of her mouth as she thought out the details of her plan; A quick brush out of her thick red hair and straightening her dress, she returned to the living room. She would have to wait for the storm to pass so she could use her phone and she was anxious to hear the rest of Shaggy's story.

**********End Interlude**********

"Go! Go!" Duncan pushed Lizzy away, rolling in the opposite direction. Rising to his feet, he held the amulet high over his head. A bright green light erupted from the object. Duncan could feel the immense power as it flowed from wrist to arm, filling his whole being. He had never felt such power; the light engulfed him.

Macalla straightened her arms; a fiery red beam shot toward Duncan, the amulet answered with a silver beam that collided with the red beam in a flaming explosion.

"For my father!" He heard Elizabeth yell. A quick glance showed she had picked up the ship's cat, heaving it, sharp claws extended, toward Macalla. Wee Willie appeared, and with a flick of the wrist was on it's way, spinning through the air to embed itself in Macalla's chest, just above her heart.

Caught in the web between the amulet's power, trying to control her own and the sharp claws of the cat, Macalla screamed in pain. She managed to throw the cat away but not before the cat's claws had done their damage; her dress had been ripped and rivers of blood flowed from the wounds across her breasts. With great effort, she managed to pull the knife from her chest, flinging it away; more blood from the gaping wound turned her ruined dress a dark crimson red.

The forcefulness of the amulet pushed her backwards, her legs hitting the rail. Screaming, she toppled backward into the cold ocean waters. The green light faded slowly until it was gone. Duncan rushed to the rail in time to see Macalla Kincaid disappearing beneath the waves. He turned away in time to catch his Lizzy in his arms and accept her lips against his own.

The much awaited confrontation with the Mistress of the Dark Robes had come to an end.

"You need to rest, John." Dr. Fuller pressed gently against John Tilley's shoulder.

"I need to see my daughter, Doctor!" Dr. Fuller looked up to see Duncan and Elizabeth clinging to each other.

"I think she's in excellent hands, John. Now rest." Dr. Fuller smiled knowingly.

The remainder of the day and several days afterward was spent with Elizabeth spending time with her father, who had only suffered a bruised chest and the wind knocked out of him when Macalla's power had hit the bible he had held in front of him. She also spent a lot of time in Duncan's arms; she didn't care what was 'proper' at this point, she only wanted to be with the man she loved.

-Xxxxxx

"LAND HO!" The call of the lookout split the crisp morning air a week later. The deck was filled with men, women and children streaming out of 'tween decks, looking toward the horizon at the land they had spent years, including the sixty six days aboard the 'Mayflower' trying to reach.

"That gentlemen, is Cape Cod!" Captain Jones called out. The mere fact that this wasn't Virginia, their original destination, was ignored when William Bradford yelled and threw his hat into the air.

"Captain Standish! Prepare your landing party!" Captain Jones added.

It was Saturday, November twenty first, in the year of our Lord, sixteen hundred and twenty. The pilgrims had arrived.

"Mr. MacRogers, would you care to join the landing party?" Captain Standish offered. The man standing in front of Duncan and Elizabeth was diminutive with a thick black beard and mustache but carried himself with a military bearing. MacBaggy looked down at Elizabeth standing beside him. "We will only be doing a little scouting today, Miss Tilley," Captain Standish reassured Elizabeth.

She laughed heartily that these two grown and courageous men would look to her for permission to do what they wanted to do. She looked up, realizing they were awaiting her answer. She kissed her MacBaggy on the cheek before speaking, "Go ahead, darling. I'll be waiting."

The land they found was barren and desolate. Captain Standish set out guards, more as a precaution since they didn't expect any trouble. The rest of the landing party spread out over the area in a simulated military fashion. They spent the day exploring, finding an abundance of game and fresh water but no suitable place to begin their new home.

That evening when they returned to their ship, Captain Standish didn't have a very good report to make to Captain Jones. He did, however, have a boat load of Juniper branches which would be burned to 'sweeten' the air 'tween decks. Water fowl had been taken, and would be prepared for the two remaining pregnant women, (Susanna White would give birth within the month to a boy she would name Paragrine. Soon afterward Mary Allerton, sadly, would give birth to a still born son); Elizabeth Hopkins had already given birth and she and the children would partake of the first fresh food they had had since leaving on their seafaring trip.

Sunday was given to religious services on board the 'Mayflower' and giving thanks for the culmination of their perilous voyage. On Monday, the ship's boat was given over to ferry duty as the women gaily did the much needed job of laundry.  
"Give me your dirty clothes, MacBaggy." Elizabeth smiled, holding out her hand.  
"What?" MacBaggy stammered, embarrassed at the thought of this young woman doing his dirty laundry.  
"You'll be busy with the men. I can do your clothes while I do my own. Besides, I want you to do something for me."  
"And what might that be?" MacBaggy inquired. Lizzy stepped closer, looking around furtively, before she spoke, "Find a nice spot to build our home- if you plan on marrying me." MacBaggy agreed with the understanding he carry his own clothes until such time as they reached the river.

Elizabeth and her mother sat their laundry on the river bank. Lizzy asked, "How are going to spend your time while we do the washing?"  
"Watch those that watch us." Duncan nodded toward the opposite bank; just visible in the outskirts of the forest, four Indians and a dog watched the women. Elizabeth gasped, the back of her hand flying to her mouth. Duncan stepped in front of Elizabeth in a defensive posture, making a show of strength.

The Indians melted back into the forest; the dog looked at his departing companions then back across the river. For some unknown reason, MacBaggy sent out a high pitched whistle across the river. The dog looked uncertain of what to do but when a second whistle sounded, the dog made up its mind and leaped into the water. The dog, now visible as a brown dog with black spots came out of the water, shaking the water from his fur. MacBaggy knelt when the dog came near. "And what might ye name be?"

The big dog sat on his haunches and lifted a paw, "Rankey Roodle Roo!"

-Xxxxxx

Eleven months later, Duncan Rogers and Elizabeth Tilley stood on the deck of the 'Mayflower' before Captain Christopher Jones and all their friends. "You may kiss your bride." Captain Jones ended the ceremony. On land, a long table had been loaded with food but neither Duncan nor Elizabeth were interested in the fare. Duncan led his new bride toward the forest that surrounded the newly built colony.

"Come on, Yankee Doodle Doo, this is your new home too!"

No longer 'stranger' and separatist maiden, no longer pilgrims but pioneers; they made their way through the trees to their new home in the new land.

*********** Final Interlude **********

The storm continued to pour out its wrath on the home as Shaggy finished telling his story. He took a large drink of eggnog to quench the dryness in his throat; he hadn't talked this much in a long time. Fred winked as he and the girls began the clean up process; he had caught Shaggy watching Velma whose sweater failed to conceal the curves underneath.

Struggling with the crutches, Shaggy moved down the hall to his bedroom. Going over to the closet, he retrieved a rough, hand made wooden box and removed what lay inside: an amulet, circular in design with a large emerald in the center. He ran his fingers over the emerald and runes embedded in the silver. A fire of bright silver filled the room reaching into every nook and corner, illuminating outward to surround the house. A sword of silver light shot up, into the heart of the storm. Seconds later, he couldn't tell if the scream he heard was in his head or if it had simply been the sound of thunder. The storm seemed to blow itself out, dissipating in mere seconds. The silver fire dimmed and died as well. Shaggy jumped in surprise and turned when he heard Velma's voice, "What was _that?"_

Shaggy held out the amulet, "Velma! Would you like to have Christmas in Scotland? I think it's time to return this," he indicated the amulet, "to its family home. You could meet the rest of my family..."

He was surprised a second time as she ran to him, hitting him hard enough to dislodge the crutches; without their support and trying to stand on one foot he had no alternative but to throw his arms around her waist.

"YIPE!" Velma cried out as they crashed onto the bed. She moved to the foot of the bed, positioning pillows to raise his injured ankle. It appeared that they got the same idea at the same time; throwing the covers back, they arranged other pillows to form a valley. They pulled the covers up, snuggling together in their own cozy make-believe tent.

"Are you asking me for the reason I'm hoping for?" She brushed a wayward lock of hair from his forehead.  
"I've wanted to tell you how I feel for a long time," he replied. Their lips met, broke apart,

"Tell me later," she whispered.

Daphne had heard the 'YIPE' from her friend and, leaving Fred to continue the clean up, headed down the hall to investigate. Whispers could be heard from the bedroom as she approached and being the curious type naturally stuck her head inside. Seeing her best friends in their own world, wrapped in the soft glow of newly discovered love and completely unaware of her presence, she gently pulled the door shut and tiptoed back the way she had came.

"Think they'll want dessert?" Fred raised his eyebrows as if he knew the answer.  
"With kisses for dessert, on their first Thanksgiving as a couple, I don't think so."

They had gone about finishing the clean up in an uneasy silence. Fred had taken the last pan from Daphne, placed it in the dish washer and closed the door; the sounds of running water assured them that every thing was working properly.

"I have a splitting headache, I think I'll turn in." She looked at him hopefully that he'd say something.  
"I'll lock up; I may read for a while. Good night, Daphne."

"Good night, Fred."

-Xxxxxx

Friday morning, when Daphne did not appear at her usual hour for breakfast, it was Velma who volunteered to check on their tardy friend. A light tap on the door yielded no response nor did the, "Daphne?" when she slowly opened the door. The bed was made and everything looked in apple pie order except upon closer inspection Velma found a depleted wardrobe and suitcases missing. There was no sign of Daphne.

She had started out the door to sound the alert when she spotted the Kewpie doll sitting on the bed. She wouldn't have paid any attention had it not been for the folded piece of paper the doll was holding in its little hands. She picked up the little doll, unfolded the paper and begun to read. The note was short, only two sentences and signed with Daphne's flourish signature in purple ink:

"Don't worry about me—  
Change is good sometimes  
Love,  
Daph"

Velma sat down on the edge of Daphne's bed; she re-read the note twice. And began to cry.

"I've really done it this time." Fighting back tears, she called out, "Fred! Shaggy!"

The End...no, because the story continues in "Their First Christmas".


End file.
